


Indulge

by androgynousdouche



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Future Sylvain lands in current Felix's timeline, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Squirting, There Is A Plot For This One Wrow..., They're both adults btw this is post-war, Time Travel, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgynousdouche/pseuds/androgynousdouche
Summary: A future version of Sylvain lands in Felix's timeline for a night while Felix's version of Sylvain is in the future.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 34
Kudos: 237





	Indulge

**Author's Note:**

> hiii felix is trans in this, I use masc and femme coded language, such as dick, hole, cock, pussy, cunt, etc. Enjoy!

A loud popping noise was the only warning Felix got before Sylvain disappeared from his side. Before he could fully process what was going on, another body landed on top of him, causing the two to violently crash into the ground.

“Wha—” Felix yelped, the weight of the stranger on top of him pushing all of the air out of his body. He grunted and pushed against the ground, easily lifting himself and the stranger, who was still laying on top of him.

Within a second Felix’s instincts kicked in and he immediately went into attack mode. Wiggling his body away from the attacker, Felix moved quickly— he drew his sword and pointed it at the other’s Adam’s apple once he was leveled on his feet. For extra measure, Felix placed his right foot on the other man’s chest, effectively pinning him to the ground.

A lot of strange things had happened in Felix’s life, but this— _this_ took the cake.

“Syl… _vain_?”

The person on the ground looked exactly like Sylvain but somehow, he wasn’t Sylvain. At least, he wasn’t _Felix’s_ Sylvain. The thought of calling Sylvain _his_ made him blush softly— it was a nice thought, but it was one he kept to himself in the privacy of his head and sometimes in the privacy of his bedroom, when his body’s desires outweighed his own humiliation and shame.

This doppelganger was older, more rugged, but still had the playful grin and the wild, fiery red curls that Sylvain currently refused to grow out. Seeing his hair longer made Felix blush even deeper because in his fantasies, he would tug on the locks, praying that Sylvain would moan his name at the sharp feeling of his hair being pulled. A light sprinkle of facial hair dotted Sylvain’s face; another feature Felix wished _his_ Sylvain would indulge him with. Age lines had begun to mark his face; some gathered around the edges of his eyes, a few worry lines were present on his forehead, and a new scar ran through his left eyebrow.

Breaking Felix’s concentration, Sylvain’s doppelganger chuckled softly, his gloved hand confidently wrapping around the blade. The action was almost testing Felix’s trust, as if to see if the man above him would legitimately bring harm to him.

“Hey, beautiful,” Sylvain’s double looked up at Felix and winked, his hand teasingly tapped the sword with each beat of silence that followed. His eyebrows lifted innocently, silently asking Felix to remove the blade from it’s dangerous position. No sense of fear was evident in anything Sylvain did while pinned under Felix’s blade— the lack of concern was driving Felix wild in a way he had never felt before. Was this version of Sylvain just as reckless as his current Sylvain, never fearing for himself, only fearing for the safety of his friends and troops? 

No matter what version of Sylvain this was, the words sounded exactly like something Felix’s Sylvain would say. Yeah, this was _definitely_ some version of a Sylvain, and the flirty words ran along Felix’s spine sharply like a bolt of Thoron. There was no way that this Sylvain was his because flirty responses like that were reserved for people who were _not_ Felix.

“This is very sexy,” Sylvain continued nonchalantly, ignoring the silent treatment that Felix was burdening him with, “But honestly, that crash landing was unexpected and my back hurts like a bitch. Maybe you can give me a nice massage to welcome me to your timeline?”

Felix rolled his eyes and scoffed. He whipped his blade away from Sylvain’s face, making sure to add a little bit of a hit to Sylvain’s hand to establish that _he_ was the one in charge. The hit wasn’t something that could have caused damage to his hand since it was wrapped in a black leather glove, but if it hadn’t been shielded by the animal skin, then it _may_ have broken some skin. Only slightly.

His foot remained on the other’s chest as he returned his sword to it’s sheath. Once his weapon was safely fastened to his side Felix leaned forward, resting his arms in a criss-cross pattern across his elevated knee. Trying to hide the curiosity Felix harbored, he spoke.

“Who the _hell_ are you? Speak!”

Each word spurred Felix on, the frustration and fear building in the pit of his stomach. The emotions weren’t volatile enough to feel all throughout his body, but they were threatening to develop into more if he didn’t start getting answers. What had happened to his Sylvain? Would he ever get him back? Was this all just a weird magic trick— was someone messing with his sanity?

Sylvain gripped Felix’s ankle in a playful manner, the feeling of the leather sending a wave of coolness up his calf. It was teasing, a touch that was purposeful yet innocent enough to go unnoticed by anyone who _hadn’t_ spent multiple nights fantasizing about their best friend manhandling their legs. Sylvain’s pupils were blown wide, a development that didn’t escape Felix’s attention.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sylvain breathed, “I forgot how _mean_ you used to be.”

This statement caused Felix to recoil as if he were hit. His hand flew to the grip of his blade— he had no intention to draw it again, but he needed his hand on the hilt to ground him. Everything was so weird, much weirder than things normally were with Sylvain around.

Placing his hand on his weapon caused the other Sylvain to spring into action, and the next thing Felix knew he was being pinned against a nearby wall with a hand covering his mouth.

“Hold on,” Sylvain breathed into Felix’s ear, “Hold on, just— just let me explain, alright?”

Having Sylvain’s weight pressed against his body, the wall pressed uncomfortably into his back, having his mouth covered by one of Sylvain’s gloved hands— all of these sensations caused Felix’s head to swim with desire. There were _many_ things Felix wanted Sylvain to do to him; tossing him around and taking complete control was nearly at the top of his list. His focus was wavering. No matter how hard Felix tried to focus on the situation at hand, the deep throbbing in his pants was winning whatever battle his intellect was trying to fight against his darkest desires.

“It’s me— it’s me, your Sylvain! I promise,” the redhead continued, still pinning Felix to the wall. 

_His Sylvain?_ was the only thought Felix’s brain could process before Sylvain continued.

“Linhardt was trying to do some weird magic, he accidentally sent me here, and I’m only here for a night before I go back.”

The more Sylvain talked, the more Felix’s attention came back into focus. Slowly unfolding from his tense stance, Felix started to take in the situation more clearly. Sylvain’s voice hadn’t changed at all but his tone had changed; there was a softness to it that Felix only heard him use when he was trying to calm a distressed animal, or whenever Felix would sneak into his room at night hoping to be comforted from a nightmare. The latter had only happened twice, but both times had made Felix’s desire for Sylvain’s affections even more pressing. Hearing Sylvain use this tone, plus knowing that Felix’s future self had confessed the desire to call Sylvain _his,_ made Felix want to put two and two together. Were they together? Did Sylvain simply know of his feelings towards his best friend, and played along with them? Or perhaps, did this version of Sylvain have a version of Felix that was softer, nicer in all the areas where he currently was harsh and jagged?

Whatever the answer was, Felix wanted to run.

The pounding in his ears began to fade once Sylvain’s hand moved from covering his mouth to cradling his cheek. The soft, loving look Sylvain was giving Felix and the motion of Sylvain’s thumb rubbing softly under his right eye was enough to set Felix’s insides on fire.

“Wow, you’re so young,” Sylvain sighed, “How old are you right now?”

“Twenty-five,” Felix replied, his voice cracking on the last number. He cleared his throat, masking his nerves and asked, “How old are you?”

“Oh,” Sylvain’s brows furrowed, “Wow, I don’t remember you being this stunning at twenty-five. Goddess, I was an idiot.”

Blood rushed to Felix’s face at the praise. _Stunning?_ That was a new compliment. Sylvain’s words towards his pursuits were vain, but Felix knew he had certain words he stayed away from, and _stunning_ was one Felix had never heard him use before. 

A wave of shyness washed over him, but Felix wanted to know what was going on— both in the present _and_ the future.

“Your age?”

“Right,” Sylvain grinned, unashamed that he had been openly ogling Felix’s face as if he was a marble statue crafted so delicately and precisely that he couldn’t help drawing the rapt attention of anyone walking by, “I’m thirty-five.”

Sylvain removed himself from Felix, and the distance made Felix’s body ache. The warmth and weight of Sylvain’s body had felt so good against Felix’s and, as selfish as it was, Felix wanted it back and never wanted to let him go. Emotions weren’t Felix’s strong suit, he and literally everyone around him knew this, but goddess did Felix’s body know what he wanted.

“I can’t tell you too much,” Sylvain cut Felix off right as he was about to go into full interrogation mode, “Because— well, some stuff we have to figure out together. Some stuff _I_ have to figure out, but I can answer some basics.”

* * *

“Well, yeah, of course I agreed to it. My father stopped hounding me once the crest system wasn’t working to his advantage anymore,” Sylvain shrugged, easily leaning back into Felix’s wooden chair as if it were any type of comfortable.

They had successfully made it back to Felix’s chambers, hiding this future version of Sylvain away from the world. Running into anyone, especially someone who _knew_ Sylvain, would have been a disaster and would have infringed upon Felix’s time to question him. Seeing Sylvain older, much more adjusted to his skin, and the _confidence_ he was toting around…all of it was driving Felix up the wall. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat under Felix’s insistent interrogation. The answers he provided Felix weren’t necessarily cryptic, but they weren’t all completely forward— a few ‘ _I can’t tell you that’_ s and some ‘ _We have to figure that one out together’_ s sprinkled the answering pool, but for the most part Felix got answers. Some of the questions Felix was uncomfortable asking, and if Sylvain was uncomfortable providing the answer, he made no show of it. Honestly, Felix hated how at home the newcomer looked but then he figured this _was_ Sylvain, who rarely looked uncomfortable when the spotlight was on him.

Well, the spotlight was currently on the ring that fit snugly on Sylvain’s left ring finger. It was sleek and black, a beautiful contrast to the paleness of his skin, and Felix _hated_ it with every fiber in his body. The simplicity of the ring almost made it look natural on his hand, as if he had been born with it, but Felix knew better. Years of sparring together, mending each other’s wounds, holding each other in the dark while whispering their greatest dreams and deepest fears… Felix knew those hands well, but did not know this band.

“But I think I would have done it no matter what, you know? It was just inevitable, and I couldn’t deny myself any longer.”

“So,” Felix continued with his question, simultaneously trying to mask his jealousy as curiosity, “You mean to tell me, you willingly got married, and you’re _happy_ about it?”

The smile that graced Sylvain’s face was a genuine one. Felix could tell it was by the way it reached his eyes and lit up his whole body.

His stomach churned.

“Yeah, I’m beyond happy about it.”

Felix’s stomach dropped at the confession. It was just so _genuine_ , so authentically said with love. Whomever had gotten Sylvain to agree to _marriage_ , of all things, must have been ridiculously perfect— or evil, depending on which way Felix’s jealousy wanted to swing.

“Great,” the word came out much harsher than Felix had initially wanted to sound, but he realized that he didn’t care to be nice in this moment. A childish part of him wanted to throw a tantrum over the fact and to not ask any more questions. He wanted to lock Sylvain away to avoid him until he returned to his timeline, march into the dining hall and eat alone, then maybe camp out in the library with Linhardt all night and— wait, no, he would definitely have worse questions to ask Linhardt if they ran into each other. Like, ‘Hey Linhardt, why the _fuck_ does future you send me my lifelong crush when he’s married to _someone_?’ or maybe, ‘Even after we’ve been through war together, you still want to torture me? Do you hate me that much?’

“Felix,” Sylvain sighed, leaning forward so all of the chair’s legs were back on the floor. Now that he was sitting normally, he looked a lot more out of place; his posture went from relaxed and open, to slightly guarded and uncertain.

“You said you’d be like this,” Sylvain rolled his eyes, “I’m married to _you_ , Felix.”

Felix’s heart stopped, his eyes widened so much that he felt the corners stretch. How could it be him? Him, the person that never wanted to talk about his feelings and sure as hell did _not_ want to involve Sylvain into the mess of his mind? What the fuck development did they have to get from ‘weirdly close friends’ to married?

“Oh,” Sylvain whispered, lifting himself from the chair and cautiously moving towards Felix. Everything was still processing, his mind a constant buzz as he watched Sylvain approaching him. He lifted his hand slowly, cupping Felix’s cheek similarly to how he had earlier in the day. The touch wasn’t unwelcomed, nor was it as foreign feeling as it had been in the courtyard, but even if Felix hadn’t wanted to be touched he didn’t think he’d be able to move.

“You told me,” Sylvain continued to whisper, slowly dragging his thumb under Felix’s left eye, “You told me you didn’t know, but I never— I just never thought you’d be this in denial.”

“What?” Felix’s mind caught up at the last sentence, “In denial? About what?”

Shrugging, Sylvain tipped his head to the side, like the new angle would provide an answer, “In denial about how obvious I was being about being in love with you.”

Obvious? Felix wouldn’t have thought in a million years that Sylvain was being _obvious_ about any romantic attraction he was experiencing, especially not towards Felix. Sexual attraction, sure, he had been more than obvious about, because Sylain was consistently going into towns looking for anyone to warm his bed or for him to warm theirs for the night— or, he had been, but during the war his habits had stopped, and Felix had amounted it to the stress of everything and constantly sharing a tent with him, sometimes even sharing a bedroll, and bringing someone back would have—

_Oh._

“Oh,” Felix said dumbly.

“Yeah,” Sylvain chuckled, “ _Oh_.”

With that, Sylvain closed the distance between their mouths.

Kissing wasn’t new to Felix, even sex wasn’t new to him despite what most people assumed, but kissing Sylvain was a new experience. Before, Felix’s exploits were quick— some were with knights that caught his attention on the worst of nights— and other times were with Ashe, who was understanding enough to know that it was a purely physical need that Felix wanted to satiate. Nothing had ever been delicate for Felix.

Feeling Sylvain delicately cradle his face between his warm hands and having his lips softly press to his, Felix began to understand the feelings of love and dedication that he had been blessed with when Sylvain had first stepped into his life as a child. No one had warned him, now or then, that falling in love wasn’t as much about falling as it was about being suspended in the metaphorical emotional ocean— far enough under the surface to know that the pressure surrounding his body was different, but close enough to still feel the warmth of the sun's ray filtering through the waves. He guessed he had been living in that position for so long that he had forgotten about it— or maybe, he had never learned how to be without that buoyancy, to be floating through life without that constant ebb and flow of emotions that anchored him to Sylvain's shore.

Sylvain tilted his head just right, slotting their mouths together more comfortably, his tongue tracing the seam of Felix’s lips. It felt practiced— perfected, even— and that was enough of a thought to make Felix relax and open his mouth, granting Sylvain access. With Sylvain knowing what to do, Felix felt a little lost, his tongue feeling heavier by the second as he sunk lower and lower into the marianas trench that divided his lungs. Drowning wasn’t a word he thought he would ever associate with Sylvain, but that was exactly how he felt, losing the comforting floating sensation and learning that _this_ was what falling felt like.

“Syl,” Felix groaned, nudging his face forward to push Sylvain’s lips away from his own. He didn’t want to stop, he wanted this to be carried on until they were both stripped naked and folded into one another, but he still needed answers for his own sanity.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Felix asked, draping his arms around Sylvain’s neck and pulling himself closer, pressing their chests together, “We went through a _war_ together, we returned and rebuilt the monastery together, we’re here in my estate _now,_ with you refusing to leave. Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

He wanted his questions to be as sincere as possible without blaming Sylvain for avoiding the topic of whatever they were, but he needed to know what caused Sylvain to want to hide from his emotions. None of what Felix asked felt out of line, but it did seem like he was expecting Sylvain to just jump into this headfirst, which would be foolish of Felix to expect because he knew that Sylvain's impulsive decisions were self-destructive, not self-rewarding or self-reflective.

“Felix, you know I have a bad habit of running. It’s— I just—” Sylvain closed his eyes, sounding pained as he gathered his words, “I fuck up— I fuck _us_ up _so badly_ , but I have to so I can grow the fuck up. Running is easier, but _fuck_ , those seven months are the worst months of my fucking life.”

It’s a rough thing to hear, and Felix is no stranger to Sylvain’s self-destructive nature, but it must have been really bad for Sylvain to start hurting their relationship. His depressive episodes were more about how much he could mess things up and force his future self to suffer in the long run rather than to just self-isolate and lash out like Felix did. They truly did complete each other, even in their tendencies to hurt those around them.

The question bouncing around in his mind was one he had always feared could come to fruition if him and Sylvain ever developed their friendship into a relationship.

“Did you cheat on me?”

It wasn’t mean to ask but it felt like it was. Pressing Sylvain for answers to tough questions had never bothered him before, but this one was different because he knew the answer would make or break his own heart. Before, answers had only ever been to validate his anger or frustration towards Sylvain, but this one was seeking out a sense of self-preservation.

“What? No!” Sylvain’s eyes popped open, his hands gripping onto Felix’s face more desperately, “No, Felix, I couldn’t, not with you. It’s— I just— I don’t know, really. There’s this point where I get so caught up in myself— in my own self-hatred— that I forget you’re there for me, and that being trapped in my own head means you’re stranded outside of it, like you’re waiting for me to come home in a storm but I never show.”

Felix squinted at the man in front of him. Seeing Sylvain so earnest about his own faults was odd, but a development Felix suspected he learned in their seven months apart. Seven months seemed like a long time for Felix to pull back from Sylvain, even though there had been years where they had not seen each other when they were younger. Their breakup must have affected him too, right? He wondered what it looked like for him— Felix had never been broken up with, so he had no idea what his emotional state would be when faced with heartbreak, but he suspected it wasn’t a good time for him.

“Well,” Felix said, “You come home eventually, if the ring is anything to go by.”

A smile slowly stretched across Sylvain’s face as he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” Sylvain breathed, “Yeah, I do come home. I come home to my _husband_ who I am _very_ in love with and I am _very_ gay for.”

Felix rolled his eyes, a smirk breaking his facade of annoyance at Sylvain’s words. They both laugh lightly at the statement, eventually falling into one another; their kisses start out chaste but develop into more passionate open-mouth kissing, a sense of impatience settling over Felix’s chest.

The feeling must have been mutual because Sylvain’s breathing started to pick up, his hands beginning to roam more freely over Felix’s body the longer they kissed. When his hands landed at the waistband of Felix’s pants, Felix let out a small groan of frustration.

“ _Sylvain_ ,” he demanded, “You better fuck me good, and it better be tonight, because I _swear on the Goddess herself_ —”

“Hush, hush,” Sylvain teased, dipping his pointer fingers under the waistband, walking backwards and dragging both of them towards the bed, “You don’t know it yet, but trust me, I fuck you _good_ all the time. You call me insatiable but you’re always begging for my cock— I think you were projecting onto me when you said that.”

Felix’s face flushed— he knew he tried to repress his high sex drive as much as possible because it was embarrassing and a nuisance, but once the opportunity to make Sylvain _his_ presented itself in this timeline, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

“Well,” Felix adjusted himself to sit over Sylvain’s lap once their legs hit the bed, “Show me your skills, if you even—”

Before he could finish his teasing, Sylvain yanked on Felix’s bun, causing it to loosen and heat to fly directly to Felix’s crotch. A gasp left Felix’s mouth as his hair was pulled again, his neck freely exposed to the cool air of the room. Sylvain’s teeth soon made contact with Felix’s neck, followed by soft licks and kisses as a semi-apology for bruising the skin. Sylvain made quick work of Felix’s shirt, tossing it unceremoniously across the room, but still making sure it landed in the basket Felix gave his maids for laundry. With his tits now free, Sylvain moved to his nipples quicker than Felix had ever seen him move. He rolled a nub in his left hand as he sucked on Felix’s tit, his eyes blissfully falling closed, like Sylvain could think of nowhere else perfect enough for him to be. It felt good, sending prickles of pleasure down his spine and to his crotch, but Felix needed more than to have his chest fondled lightly.

Felix ground his hips downwards onto Sylvain’s erection, feeling the hard line press against his entrance. The small amount of pressure he applied to his clit made his pussy throb, his hole aching to be stroked and filled with Sylvain’s dick. 

“I know you won’t need me to stop—” Sylvain breathed against Felix’s chest, his hand confidently sliding into Felix’s pants as he spoke, “—but if you do, just let me know, okay?”

Barely comprehending the words, Felix nodded, his entire being focused on the feeling of Sylvain’s fingers against his dick. He was hard and already soaking wet, despite the fact that he and Sylvain hadn’t gotten too physical. With others, it was sometimes difficult for Felix to get aroused, either because he was bored or because he was too busy wishing it was someone else pressing into him. Now, with Sylvain touching and kissing him, Felix couldn't help practically soaking through his smallclothes. 

Sylvain stroked his folds with his middle finger, dragging some of Felix’s wetness upwards to his clit, rubbing hard, fast circles on the head of it. The sensation felt so good, nothing like anything anyone had done for him before. Honestly, most of the men Felix fucked just stuck their dicks to jerk themselves off inside of Felix. There was no finess, no learning how to please the other, just selfish fucking. It wasn’t unpleasant for Felix to be solely penetrated, but the attention Sylvain was showing him really did prove that he knew how to fuck Felix properly.

“Yeah, that’s good Felix,” Sylvain moaned into Felix’s neck, winding an arm around Felix’s waist and pulling him closer, “You’re so wet for me, you’re doing so well, so eager for me to fill you up and split you in half.”

Normally, Felix hated dirty talk because it all sounded so stupid to him. To no surprise, having Sylvain say these things aroused him even more. Hearing Sylvain’s voice unraveled him, making Felix’s legs shake from the anticipation of what Sylvain was going to say next.

“Off,” Sylvain instructed, tapping Felix’s hip with his right hand and pulling his left out from Felix’s pants. A small whine escaped Felix’s throat when Sylvain’s fingers left his cunt, but he obeyed and fell into the bed, away from Sylvain.

“On your stomach,” Sylvain’s hands grabbed his waist, turning him over like Felix wasn’t eager to follow every order given to him. “Easier for me to hit your A-spot at this angle.”

Sometimes, Sylvain said shit that drove Felix up the wall. Not because it was raunchy or inappropriate but because he said it with so much ease, like they were the simplest things in the world to say. Which, honestly, it probably _didn’t_ bother him to say them, and Felix hated how easily the expletives fell from his mouth in any other circumstances.

But, in the bedroom, all it did was make Felix throb.

Sylvain cursed as he tore off Felix’s boots, each one thunking loudly against the flooring of Felix’s bedroom. He let out a frustrated groan while tearing off Felix’s socks and pants, finally having Felix completely naked before him. Sylvain let out a victorious huff, positioning Felix so that his bare ass was in the air and his chest was pressed into the mattress.

“Fuck,” Felix said into the pillows his face was pressed into. The feeling of losing control was slowly making its way into Felix’s head, the thrill of submitting to Sylvain becoming more and more appealing as he lost himself to sensation. That feeling of being underwater was rolling over his body, Sylvain becoming a wave he wanted to ride but not necessarily tame.

“Good boy,” Sylvain spoke between Felix’s shoulder blades, dropping small kisses along his spine, “You’re perfect, I love you so much.”

Felix shuddered under the praise, his brain firing off a million silent fireworks upon hearing the love confession. He had dreamt of hearing those words from Sylvain for so long, not noticing that Sylvain had been saying them for years, blinded by his own inability to pick up on the social cues that Sylvain presented to him near daily.

“ _Hng_ ,” was the only thing Felix could muster as he adjusted his hips, lifting them higher in the air and spreading his legs, presenting himself unabashedly to Sylvain.

Sylvain groaned at the sight. He had had Felix so many times he couldn’t even try to approximate how many times it had been, but every time Felix looked like this— pussy dripping, eyes unfocused with desire, legs spread and inviting Sylvain in— it riled him up like nothing had been able to before. There had been many people in the same position Felix was in— submitting, begging, _keening_ for Sylvain— but none had the appeal that Felix’s body and soul had.

Not wanting to waste another minute, Sylvain slipped two fingers in slowly, giving Felix enough time to adjust to the stretch. It had been a while since Felix had had anyone inside of him, the time becoming more apparent with Sylvain’s presence inside of him. His breath started to come in rapid, short spurts as Sylvain worked him open, his fingers slowly dragging along his walls and rubbing against a spot near his entrance that had him leaking onto the bed below him. The squelching sounds would usually upset him— it just sounded so dirty when he was alone, and it was frustratingly embarrassing when he was with someone else— although knowing that he was this relaxed and ready for Sylvain made the sounds more bearable.

He began to push back onto Sylvain’s fingers, wanting to take more, to prove that he was ready for Sylvain to be inside of him, ready for the feeling of him tumbling over the edge. Part of the fun was the chase towards his orgasm, the ability to seek out and prove his stamina, and he was beginning to think that he had never had memorable sex before because his goal was always about _himself_ , never about his partner. His own pleasure wasn’t as important as Sylvain’s was. Here, right now, all he wanted to do was be used by Sylvain, to provide him that burst of ecstasy that he remembered all the teenagers at Garrag Mach giggling about that he never understood. 

Felix felt a third finger slide in and hissed at the way his entrance was being opened. Sylvain stilled for a second, searching Felix's face and posture for any sign of discomfort, and when he found none he resumed his ministrations. Soon enough, Felix's moans were tapering off and becoming soft, high pitched whines that sounded similar to mewling. This was always the sign for Sylvain, the signal to change from consistent strokes to hard finger fucking.

When Sylvain changed his rhythm, he started hitting a spot deep inside Felix that was making his vision swim. It was rough and fast, like how Felix loved it, but the buildup beforehand made the sensation of being filled one hundred times better. A tightening feeling started to cause Felix's dick to pulse, his orgasm nearing.

"Sylvain— Vain, I'm gonna—"

"Do it," Sylvain grunted, his pace becoming more erratic, "Come for me, baby, come all over my fingers, I never let you finish less than twice."

Felix clenched and bit hard into the pillow, trying to muffle the scream that left his body when he finally came, squirting hard all over the hand behind him.

The feeling of his pussy releasing as much as it did was enough of a shock to pull Felix immediately down from any sort of post orgasmic haze. It was mortifying— Felix had never cum so hard in his life and he had only squirted once before with Ashe, who had been so flustered they both had nearly passed out from sheer embarrassment.

"I'm—" Felix tightly squeezed his legs shut, moving his hips away from Sylvain's now soaked hand and arm, "This is so— _Seiros,_ Sylvain, I can't—"

"It's okay, baby," Sylvain shushed him soothingly. He was rubbing his dry hand against Felix's shoulder blades, willing his partner to relax, "It's so hot when you do this, don't try to stop it, I love it. Actually, I tear up the first time it happens."

"Shut up!" Felix demanded, aghast at the prospect of anyone finding this hot.

"Oh, grow up," Sylvain teased and Felix could hear the smile in his voice without needing to see him, "Felix, you've been my wet dream since we were teenagers, when I find out you can squirt I legitimately feel like I died. It’s like fucking you is my own personal heaven."

"Ugh," Felix managed, his face burning. He rolled onto his back, now able to see Sylvain, who was sitting on the bed with his legs folded under him and his arms in his lap. At some point he had lost his shirt and shoes, but his pants were still around his waist. He was making no effort to hide his own arousal.

“We can— we can keep going,” Felix said, shyness starting to take over, “If you want.”

“No shit I want to,” Sylvain grinned. He crawled over Felix, planting his forearms on either side of Felix’s head, bracketing him in and making him feel smaller than he knew he was. There was no sense of danger, just a sense of trust, which Felix assumed was how Sylvain must have felt earlier in the day with his blade pointed at his Adam's apple. Giving someone the power of control wasn’t how Felix operated, and giving Sylvain the power of trust— not just control— was foreign but not unwelcome.

Seiros, how had he gone so long with these feelings inside of him, only to not acknowledge that they were there, permeating every cell of Felix’s consciousness? Everything about this felt natural— Sylvain looking down at him with fondness, the heat radiating from both of their bodies, the way they were both creating their own personal bubble, existing only within the confines of their orbit. How had it taken so long for him to just reflect for five seconds to realize that they were bound together in any way possible?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Sylvain said, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he examined Felix’s, “We can stop, if you want.”

“No,” Felix breathed. Any thought of not having Sylvain inside of him seemed like a bad one, and he wanted Sylvain to know that, “Trust me, I want this. It’s just— it’s weird, having you like this.”

“Weird?” Sylvain asked, his voice a mixture of light confusion and humor, with no air of offense present, “How?”

Weird hadn’t been the right word. It would have offended anyone else, Felix knew this, and he also knew that Sylvain understood that sometimes his words came out wrong, and for that he was grateful. No, it wasn’t _weird_ , it was—

“It’s like a dream,” Felix said unabashedly, “I never thought you’d want me, I don’t know why— maybe because we’ve been around each other for so long? Having you never seemed feasible.”

Sylvain dropped his head, trailing a pattern of kisses along Felix, starting behind his ear and moving to his collarbone, nipping at skin as he strolled easily down the pathway of Felix’s neck. Felix traced down Sylvain’s abdomen, tugging at the waist of his pants, wordlessly indicating that he wanted Sylvain as naked as he was.

The motion was understood by Sylvain. He slowly rolled his pants down, letting some of the fabric bunch around his hardened dick, making it spring against his stomach once the fabric couldn’t hold tight any longer. Felix’s eyes landed on his cock, knowing his pupils were expanding as fast as possible. In his fantasies, Felix never really considered the weight or girth of Sylvain, too wrapped up in just the thought of being pressed open to think about the trivialities of size.

“It doesn’t have to be a dream anymore.”

Again, Sylvain just said things so easily, so naturally, no wonder people flocked to him and swooned over any of his flirtatious remarks. Felix’s eyes darted up from his dick to his face, ready to reprimand Sylvain for his shitty flirtatious line, but he was surprised to find a look of apprehension on the other.

No, those coquettish phrases he used with strangers were playful, filled to the brim with insincerity and outlined with a hidden agreement to not pursue the words (or their actions) any further. What Sylvain was saying now was real, so truthful that it caught Felix off guard, sinking deep into his brain and overwhelming him with the amount of hormones that were triggered to release throughout his body and mind.

Sylvain adjusted himself, hitching one of Felix’s legs up high, lining the head of his dick to Felix’s entrance and slowly pushed in. The position made it easier for Sylvain to control himself, so he wouldn’t immediately rush in and ravish Felix under him. Rough sex was their usual go-to but he knew for their first time it couldn’t be that way.

Felix shivered, the feeling of Sylvain sinking into him slowly making his eyes roll into the back of his head. The way Sylvain slid so easily inside caused both of them to groan, Felix’s chest heaving from the pleasure and Sylvain’s chest heaving from holding back. When Felix felt their hips connect he clenched around Sylvain.

“Shit,” Sylvain hissed, “Shit, Felix, you’re so warm and relaxed, holy fuck—”

The words gave Felix more reassurance that Sylvain was just as into this as he was, possibly even more, so Felix rewarded Sylvain’s praises with a slow roll of his hips. This made Sylvain’s hand grip tightly against Felix’s thigh and hip, and he dragged his own hips back a fraction to allow his dick to move. The simple movement broke the tension, finally spurring Sylvain on to start thrusting deep into Felix.

Felix’s mouth fell open at the first thrust, the feeling of Sylvain’s cock pressing against him in all the right areas making him see stars. Moans filled the room, mostly coming from Felix, who had given up on trying to hide any of his noises. Sylvain encouraged his sounds with small praises, saying things like _yes, Felix, let me hear you_ and _goddess, you take me so well_. His hands moved and anchored themselves onto Felix’s hips, lifting him lightly so Sylvain was hitting deeper, faster, harder and making Felix feel like he wasn’t anything— couldn’t be anything— but just a toy for Sylvain to use until they both ran dry.

Throwing his arm over his eyes, Felix began to whimper as he was pushed closer to his edge. He was determined to hold out long enough to see Sylvain finish first, but Sylvain must have known he was holding back, because the next thing Felix knew Sylvain’s left hand had traveled from it’s spot on his ilium to his clit.

“You’re close,” Sylvain confidently stated as he began to rub Felix’s dick rougly, and _damn him_ , it wasn’t fair that Sylvain had years of practice with his body, Felix unable to hide anything from him, “Come on, Fe, you’re so close, I can feel you trying to hold back— just, just let me, _oh, fuck_ —”

Felix let out a long, high pitched whine as he gushed on Sylvain’s dick. Any reservations about his ability to squirt had gone out the window, both with how Sylvain had reassured him that he loved this and with how the feeling of orgasm destroyed any sense of pride within him.

Sylvain, satisfied with Felix’s second orgasm, began to drill into Felix, chasing his own pleasure now that he knew Felix had achieved his own twice. His thrusts were sturdy at first— Felix unable to do anything but whine at the overstimulation that hurt so good. The movements began to become less rhythmic and more inconsistent the closer Sylvain got to his release.

“ _Syl_ ,” Felix whined, “Vain, you feel _so good_ , please, inside— give me, _please_ —”

He wasn’t sure what he was asking for. All Felix knew was that he wanted Sylvain to stay inside, to never leave him, to be by his side for forever, to make a home out of the infrastructure they had been delicately constructing their entire lives— the infrastructure that had been drafted for them even before either one of them had been born into this world.

With a harsh grunt, Sylvain came inside Felix, marking his territory and claiming his walls as his. After a few more shallow thrusts, Sylvain fell on top of Felix, his full body weight crushing Felix. The weight was nice, it helped to ground Felix back to reality slowly, his focus coming back in gradually. Again, he was ebbing and flowing, Sylvain simultaneously being the shoreline and the gravitational pull that brought him back to the sands.

“Mmm,” Sylvain hummed, nuzzling his face into the crook of Felix’s neck, “I’m sleepy.”

Felix rolled his eyes and pushed Sylvain off of him. The other tossed his body dramatically to the side, almost falling off of the side of the bed, a large smile blinding Felix.

“You’re so stupid,” Felix couldn’t help himself from saying, the fondness evident in the way his voice pitched down near the end of his sentence. Sylvain winked and threw him a kiss before he got up and walked into the washroom attached to Felix’s chambers.

When Sylvain returned, he had a damp rag in hand, nudging Felix’s legs open to begin wiping him down. Felix thought about asking Sylvain to clean him up with something else, perhaps his mouth, but the thought caused him to blush and look away from Sylvain. The coolness of the rag helped to quell any excitement that had begun to build between his legs again. Sylvain was being careful, a nice contrast to how he had been just minutes earlier with Felix’s body. A faint tingling began to wrap around Felix’s leg, and when he looked down he realized Sylvain was using some light healing magic to help his muscles. Felix raised an eyebrow; neither one of them excelled in healing magic, and they hadn’t ever learned enough to perform on one another, so Sylvain must have learned this in the future on his own.

Now that he was clean, Sylvain threw the rag into a waste bin and settled himself back into the bed. He opened his arms, inviting Felix to cuddle up against his chest. Felix considered getting up and dressing himself, the instinct to leave Sylvain here and run away starting to crawl its way back into Felix’s mind, but he pushed it down and accepted the invitation.

“You know,” Sylvain mumbled into Felix’s hair, pressing a kiss into the crown of Felix’s head, “You actually get more cuddly the older you get. It’s cute.”

“Gross,” Felix said with no venom behind it. He felt Sylvain’s chest rumble as he chuckled softly. His hands were running through Felix’s hair, his fingers scraping across his scalp soothingly as they both laid in silence.

Outside Felix’s window, the sun had set, and Felix remembered Sylvain saying he was only going to be here for the night. How was he going to get back? Actually, where was he right now? He hadn’t even thought about where _his_ current Sylvain was— was he safe?

“Where are you?” Felix asked.

“Huh?” Sylvain responded, craning his neck to look into Felix’s eyes, “Are you okay? I’m right here.”

The concern in Sylvain’s voice confused Felix, unsure as to why Sylvain seemed a bit panicked by his questioning.

“Do you know where you are? I mean, you’re _here_ ,” Felix emphasized by throwing his hand around, indicating the present moment, “But— where’s _my_ version of you?”

“Oh,” Sylvain said, relaxing back into the pillows, “I thought you were dissociating, post-orgasm.”

Oh, that made sense to Felix. It had happened before to him, especially after he had rough sex with strangers who threw him to the side once they were done with him, but he was grounded with Sylvain. The aftercare Sylvain had provided was more than Felix was used to receiving, let alone allowing.

“Hmm,” Sylvain hummed. Something clicked in his brain and he was suddenly laughing, shaking Felix slightly. He ran a hand down his face, trying to wipe the smile from his face, “Oh, I’m in my timeline, getting destroyed by your strap.”

“What?!” Felix nearly shouted, throwing himself up and staring down at Sylvain with a look of shock, “My— my what?! Why!”

“Because I like when you peg me?”

“That’s—”

What? It was what? Felix had fantasized about Sylvain under him often enough, why was it so shocking to hear that his fantasies were his future reality? With Sylvain involved, he suspected any of his fantasies could become real. The enthusiasm for sexual exploration being one of the many aspects of Sylvain’s personality that Felix loathed to admit he adored.

Sylvain shook his head, his smirk still haunting Felix, “Yeah, when I land in that timeline, you don’t hold back _at all_. You really put me in my place.”

The idea of ‘ _putting Sylvain in his place_ ’ made Felix’s face flush, the heat running all along his neck and pulsed in his ears. He knew that he preferred to be on the receiving end of things, but occasionally he wished he could be the one giving, but it was difficult for him unless it was planned in advance. Learning that Sylvain bottomed for him made his head light.

“You weren’t that rough with me now,” Felix pointed out, a question as to _why_ hidden between the words. He wouldn’t take offence if Sylvain preferred to be gentler with Felix. Sylvain had a lot of experience, sure, but Felix only knew that he was experienced, he actually had no idea what Sylvain’s preferences were.

“No, I wasn’t,” Sylvain agreed, “You told me not to be. We have to build up to that on your end.”

Their future seemed promising to Felix. There were boundaries that this Sylvain understood that his current Sylvain didn’t seem to care about; their future communication wasn’t just about talking, it seemed to be about _comprehending_. The promise of forgiveness, of redemption, of accountability— it was all what love should be: how Felix knew it never was in any of Ashe’s stories, how he had always lived with Sylvain, even if he didn’t acknowledge it.

“You’ve really changed. You’ve grown into someone I would have never expected.”

Sylvain shrugged, blushing a bit at the compliment Felix gifted him with. He looked at Felix, his eyes holding onto memories that wanted to make themself known so that maybe— just, maybe— Sylvain could avoid those seven months of hell. As bittersweet as it was, Sylvain knew he had to suffer through them in order to become the current Sylvain that Felix was currently appreciating.

“Yeah, well,” he sighed, “It wasn’t easy getting here. And I deserved it. But that’s all I’m telling you.”

Felix stuck his tongue out at Sylvain, making the other laugh and curl his arms around Felix’s neck, pulling him flush against his body. Felix went easily, tumbling into Sylvain’s chest and the bed. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, Sylvain doing the same.

They sat in comfortable silence, neither wanting to break the night air with their own insecurities. Or, at least, Felix didn’t want to break it with his insecurities.

Before he realized it, Felix’s eyes were drifting shut, the silence lulling him to sleep. Having Sylvain next to him provided a sense of comfort that only he could provide Felix, helping him to fall asleep more easily.

“Hey,” Sylvain whispered into the night. Felix didn’t move, but he grunted lowly to let Sylvain know he was listening, even if barely awake.

“I love you,” Sylvain continued, “Be patient with me, okay? I swear on our promise that I’ll fix everything.”

Unable to answer, the words ricochet around Felix’s sleep addled brain, becoming a soft lullaby to coax him to sleep.

* * *

His sleep was so deeply relaxing that the loud crashing had barely woken him. Felix— having fought and _survived_ a war— would have scolded himself for not being prepared for an attack at every second possible, but in the moment, he could care less. Besides, he had Sylvain sleeping next to him, so he’d be protected.

Except, when he cracked open one eye, the bed next to him was empty. He frowned. Remembering that future Sylvain _had_ said he’d only be there for the night, Felix rolled over onto the side where Sylvain had been, noticing that the bed was cold, meaning he had been gone for some time.

Felix began to lift himself up, wanting to get his day started, when his door flew open so violently that it crashed into the wall next to it.

Now, Felix was fully awake, thinking over every spot where he kept his knives— under his pillow, two under his bed, one hidden behind his headboard— before he saw who was in his doorway.

“ _Felix_ ,” Sylvain huffed.

The sight of Sylvain— _his_ Sylvain— panting heavily in his doorway, his shirt torn at the collar, hickies littering his neck, his hair completely untamed, and— were those bruises wrapping around his neck?

“We need to talk,” Sylvain’s words sounded sharply feral, teetering on the edge of animalistic and lucid, “We need to talk, _right now_.”

**Author's Note:**

> :blushing_emoji:
> 
> I'm on [twidder!](https://twitter.com/sylvainsbarista)


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